The Un-training of Stanley Kaminski – Chapter Nine

The Un-training of Stanley Kaminski – Chapter Nine.

Both CD’s had played in the dark of night, weaving a web of deception, creating a world that came from some other plain. All the CD’s which had been spread throughout the world, to all the households of those who were practicing something which they shouldn’t be doing, knowing they were straying from the norm, all these CD’s would now trigger in full force, this new key word somewhat different. It wasn’t baby, or diaper, or spider, or anything related to the many vices and fantasies of the unsuspecting. It simply was “Trick or Treat”, and it waited to be unleashed.

Things were not going well at the Kaminski household. Both woke up to a wet bed, and at this point, there was no need for secrecy. Stanley had a full diaper, and Maureen couldn’t understand why she had wet the bed, but there it was. She swore, and then stripped the bed. She would have to go into the basement, but that stupid husband could go down with her. She wasn’t going to face some oversized spider by herself. She thought spider, and she shivered. For some reason, she was more afraid of the possibility that spiders could be anywhere, lurking behind closed doors, in the kitchen or the bathroom. Ugh, the bathroom she thought, being completely naked and attacked by spiders. Wouldn’t that be horrible?

“Help me with this bedding, would you,” she barked at her husband.

“What! Wet the bed again,” and he scowled as he said it, which only made Maureen all the more angry.

“Well, you’re the one who wants to be a baby, with your baby crib and diapers,” and she pulled her husband’s flannel pajamas down, revealing a wet and soiled cloth diaper, only protected by his baby printed plastic pants.

“There’s the baby, little baby go wet-wet,” and she took some pleasure watching her husband’s expression change to distress as he wet uncontrollably, unable to stop the flow into an already soaked diaper.

“Better run off and change, little baby,” and as her husband ran to the downstairs bathroom, she followed with the wet sheets. Since he was downstairs, he could help her with washing them. It’s the least he could do for being so ridiculous, she thought.

With all of the morning nonsense, both of them were late for work. Stanley apologized for his unfortunate accident, using sickness as his rehearsed excuse. Everyone wished he felt better, but from his cubicle, he could hear whispering, and often the hushed asides were followed by muted laughter. It was going to be a long day. The day wasn’t much easier for Maureen. Several times while driving, she thought she saw spiders in the car. She’d think about them, reiterating her hatred for spiders, and as soon as she thought it, something dark would be crawling in the corner of the dashboard, or on the floor carper. One time she stomped her left foot with her right, feeling something creeping slowly across the top where the leather left off, and skin began.

Stanley said good-bye to his secretary, and she wished him well, and perhaps too well when she said, “Happy Halloween baby.”

He guessed the baby part wasn’t unusual, but given the unusual circumstances of the previous day, he had his suspicions, wondering if she too wasn’t enjoying the moment.

Stanley was surprised to see his wife home ahead of him, but he remembered that it was Halloween and he guessed she was getting the house ready for the evening. He wasn’t too far off, but he hadn’t been correct in guessing the motif, for Maureen had decorated the living room. There were some plushies, stuffed animals sitting on the furniture, and where they had some quality first run lithographs, they were now replaced with posters of Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit, and A. A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh.

“All right, this has gone too far,” but before he could get out another word, Maureen stuck a pacifier in his mouth and said, “Oh baby, that’s better, isn’t it?”

Stanley plopped down on the floor and began to suck feverishly. He could vaguely feel his pants getting wet.

“You stay here and play while mommy get’s your dinner ready,” and Maureen walked into the kitchen, her second and final plan in motion. She had made a nice dinner for herself and something entirely different for her husband.

When everything was prepared, there was one more thing to do, and she returned to the living room.

“Let’s go upstairs baby. Mommy has a surprise for her little baby,” and she helped her husband up the steps and into their bedroom.

She had retrieved the thickest diapers he owned, and with them, a pair of pink plastic pants, with the carnival animal prints. She gently laid him on the bed, pushing him backwards, and carefully took his clothes off.

“There there baby. Won’t this be nice? Let mommy take care of her little baby.”

Stanley looked up at her with a vacant expression. Slowly, he began to smile as she pushed his legs apart, lifting him and pushing the diaper under him. She powered him with his own baby powder, and pulled the diaper around him, taping the sides.

“There there, aren’t you a good little baby.”

She then produced the most girly looking onsie she could find, and put that on him. The last touch was a little baby bonnet that she had ordered online.

“There, won’t you look ridiculous for all the Halloween children who come and knock on our door, and they’ll just think that’s your costume, and they’ll wonder as to what kind of man you are,” and Maureen began to laugh again, laughed hysterically a sickening sound that sounded like it came from a horror movie.

She helped her husband down the steps, encouraging him to walk and take a few steps, as he tried to negotiate the stairway, feeling more like a toddler than an adult. He was vaguely aware that he was diapered and wearing his favorite onsie. He liked the feeling, and it made him feel all the more little. Through the fog of infancy he found himself in the kitchen, and his wife was singing.

“Here’s a little supper for a little baby,” Maureen sang, and she put the spoon into a jar of Gerber baby food and began to feed it to her husband. She took a bite of her roasted chicken, and then she would give her baby Stanley a bite of his Gerber peaches and rice.

When supper was over she wiped her husband’s face off and took him back to the living room. She turned on the TV and found the Cartoon Network, finding a Halloween cartoon special. Cleaning up from supper she could hear the cartoon from the living room. It seemed that very naughty children were going from house to house, yelling what children yell. There were bats, and ghouls, monsters, demons, and also Halloween spiders. All this came drifting into the kitchen as she finished loading the dishwasher. She was feeling very uncomfortable and on edge, and she thought she saw a spider. Then she saw another, and yet another. Meanwhile, the cartoon blared on, children running from house to house, running from some silly ridiculous monster. Some were yelling ‘Trick or Treat’ and though she was only slightly hearing this over the noise of the dishwasher, it was having its effect.

In the living room, Stanley was now becoming completely transformed, because he was hearing what was coming from the television, and he was regressing deeper and deeper with each ‘Trick or Treat’. The subliminal elements of the CD’s were playing somewhere deep in his subconscious, and more so, coursing and coinciding with the spiritual energy which was his soul. The night time voices were speaking, and they would now be heard for it was Halloween. They regressed him, erasing the years of his adult life. Twenty was gone, nineteen, eighteen, all the way past three and now he was two. He played on the floor barely understanding what was blaring on the TV. But there was more, because there were the other voices, and they warned those who should have not played with spiders. Now they were revealing the black crawling menace, hundreds of spiders emerging from every crevice and corner, from the dark places that existed on another plain, and they were coming.

Maureen saw them; saw them clearly now. They were on the counter top, the floor, and they were crawling on her feet, across her feet. The dishwasher started to make a noise, a screeching grinding noise of metal gears against gears, grinding and tearing, and then, hundreds and hundreds of spider began to pour forth from the top of the door, crawling out of the dishwasher, plopping down onto the floor and they were headed straight toward Maureen. For the slightest moment, Maureen could do nothing. She was frozen, unable to move, her worst fear materializing in front of her eyes, black spiders, brown, tan, and even albino white. It was then that she screamed, and ran into the living room, shouting, “Oh Stanley, save me,” but that was impossible, because Stanley was no longer her husband.

She ran to him, pleading with him, and in her panic, she grabbed him and shook him.

“Come out of it you idiot and for once be a man. For God’s sake Stanley, help me,” and she shook him so hard, his baby bonnet which had been tightly secured, shifted on his head, and was half cocked, obscured to the left.

She looked up from her husband and that was her undoing, because now it was just she and her infantile husband, alone in the expanse of their living room, and that room was overrun with spiders. The far corners were beginning to turn black from the many dark shelled arachnids, the now black corners growing and spreading, the cream color carpet being replaced by the growing tide of black, and the black color was moving, spreading.

Suddenly Maureen was shocked back to her senses when she felt something on her shoulder. She absently brushed it, at it, only to have “it” now crawling on her hand, its mandibles biting into her soft skin. She screamed and swatted at it, hitting at it and sending it flying. It was quickly replaced by another and in her terror she looked up, something she really shouldn’t have done, because what she saw would haunt her memories forever. There were hundreds and hundreds of spiders descending downward on their carefully spun silken threads, hundreds of tiny little lines of silk like arachnoid bungee jumpers, all silently slipping down from the ceiling, and their base was Maureen.

Maureen probably would have passed out, allowing herself to become a meal for whatever depraved demonic power that had invaded the once comfortable house and now was consuming her sanity, when the door bell rang. The door bell rang and it was the one thing in the house that was actually real and not imagined. It was tangible in an otherwise contrived world of suggestion and spells. It brought Maureen to her senses. The spiders were suddenly gone, and there was only her husband, now a baby, playing helplessly on the floor. She could see that he had wet his diaper, and he was sucking on his pacifier. She looked into his eyes and she saw distress, as if he had seen the same thing as her, and for the slightest moment, she wondered if it was something else, if something in his world of baby had spoken to his imagination, and it had been just as terrifying.

The bell rang again and Maureen opened the door, wanting to welcome the cold fresh air, wanting to embrace the outside world where everything was real, and safe, but that’s not what happened. Directly in front of her stood the Twillow twins and their mother’s impressive creation, costumes looking perfectly lifelike, if not larger than their real counterpart. Tyler and Twyla were Black Widow Spiders, with two black hairy legs to stand on, and six other appendages, two which were their real arms, and four other appendages which moved more randomly as they were connected to their real arms with the transparent nylon fishing line.
“Trick or Treat,” they yelled, eagerly expecting candy, but that’s not what they got.

When NASA designed the Martian rover, “Curiosity” they had equipped it with one extra sensor, something they never told the public. There were a few scientists who believed that Mars once held life, intelligent life. It was believed that if this life spoke, it must have been accomplished with very high pitched squeals or shrieks due to the very thin atmosphere, and so they had installed sensitive audio listening devices, programmed to redirect its microphone in the direction of any extremely loud and alien high frequency. It was at this very moment when Maureen opened her front door that Curiosity did an abrupt one hundred and eighty degree turn and re-aimed its microphone to point back at Earth in the direction of the south east coast of the United States.

Maureen screamed, peed herself, and collapsed unconscious to the floor. The twins stood in shocked silence, hugging each other, the twelve hairy appendages intertwined.

When the police finally arrived, they found Maureen babbling incoherently about spiders, and her husband Stanley quietly cooing and having the mind of a one year old. More curious was his garb, that of an infant, and even Maureen, his wife, was wearing a diaper and a dress a little girl would wear, something she would later deny, having no memory of ever having ordered it, much less, putting it on.

The End of The Un-training of Stanley Kaminski – Chapter Nine.

If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index